


Love Me

by misato



Category: Psych
Genre: Angst and Humor, Blow Jobs, Flavored Condoms, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Rimming, but theres also, i just wanted to write about pineapple flavored condoms lmao, oh shit how could i forget:, thats my favorite tag, this isnt a sequel to 'gotcha lassie'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9566366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: It’s only been twenty minutes since Lassiter’s shift has ended when he bursts into their apartment, icy eyes blazing, the box half-crumpled in his hand.“What is this?”“Contraception,” Shawn says, a fake grin spreading across his face.





	

If there’s one thing Shawn loved more than pineapple, it was pure, rough sex; the way Lassiter slams him against the bed and fucks into him is practically heavenly - if heaven is full of gay sex and dreamy blue eyes and a good amount of moaning. And a combination of his two favourite things, well, it sounded quite literally orgasmic.

He had bought the pineapple flavoured condoms on some strange website about month ago, mostly as a joke, but now that he actually had a chance to use them, it was difficult to resist.

They’ve only been together for a week, but Shawn’s quickly taken a liking to leaving surprises all over Lassie’s desk - replacing his paper clips with Hershey Kisses, drawing crude doodles on his endless stacks of manilla folders, and once, replacing his stapler with an embarrassingly neon vibrator. That last one had gotten him in more trouble than he’d intended, but God, was the look on Lassie’s face when they’d actually tested out the damn thing worth it. He’d attempted hiding lube in various spots around the apartment, but that had backfired the moment he’d groped underneath the couch cushions for the small plastic bottle and had pulled out a gun instead. 

They rarely even used condoms in the first place, barring their first few times together; Shawn didn’t like them, but Lassie had insisted that he get tested before he took any risks.  _ “Tightass,” _ Shawn had complained, and then had spent the next hour indubitably proving it. But flavoured condoms were a whole different story.

Shawn loved oral, as he’d demonstrated to Lassiter multiple times throughout the past week - in Lassie’s bed, in his shower, up against his kitchen counter. 

But this was too good to just bring up, and so he’d left it in Lassie’s desk drawer and had waited.

It’s only been twenty minutes since Lassiter’s shift has ended when he bursts into their apartment, icy eyes blazing, the box half-crumpled in his hand.

“What is  _ this _ ?”

“Contraception,” Shawn says, a fake grin spreading across his face.

Lassiter doesn’t respond, his jaw clenching - and not in an“I’m-going-fuck-you-into-the-sheets” way.

“You can’t just waltz up to my desk any time you like and replace my office supplies with some freaky thing you ordered from an online sex shop.”

“I  _ told  _ you, the Bad Dragon thing was a prank,” Shawn protests, trying to keep his tone light and breezy, like Lassie isn’t really mad at him - he couldn’t  _ really  _ be mad at him, right?

“It’s not that, it’s that you’re going to get me  _ fired _ , idiot.”

“Oh,” Shawn says, the smirk sliding off his face. “Oh.”

The detective tosses the flavoured condoms onto the couch and stalks into the kitchen. He can hear the clinking of bottles and the sound of scotch being poured into a glass; it appears that Lassie has a good mind to get wasted. He itches to join him, to drown himself in alcohol and give his boyfriend the sloppiest blowjob in the world, but he feels like Lassiter is honestly angry at him, and it makes Shawn feel uncomfortably sad.

_ Is _ Lassie his boyfriend? He’s never found the right moment to ask over the course of the past week, and he’s certain that now isn’t the right time to bring it up either.

Lassiter makes his way back into the living room and slumps onto his couch, jarring Shawn from his thought process. He glances up at the other man knocking back his drink in one swift motion before slamming the empty glass onto the coffee table, making an overly audible sound in the awkward silence.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“All right,” Shawn says, even though he knows it’s not, not even a little, and then he slides smoothly onto the floor, head bowed before Lassiter’s thighs. “Let me make it up to you.”

It’s a cheap line, one that he can feel Lassie roll his eyes at.

“You don’t have to blow me just because I got pissed off.”

“I’m not,” Shawn says. “I’m blowing you because these damn condoms were incredibly overpriced, and I intend on trying them out at least once before they all expire.”

“Dumbass.”

“Yeah,” he says, and then starts fumbling with the button of Lassiter’s stupidly fancy dress pants. “And ‘cause I love sucking you off, Lass.”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he says, but the word is a shred of a whisper, and Shawn’s already smirking against his inner thigh, tongue tracing the delicate skin.

He kisses his way over the shaft of Lassiter’s cock; it’s only half-hard, but Shawn sucks it deep into his mouth anyway, feeling the swell of his erection against his cheek. At the same time, he fumbles around for the cardboard box, ripping it open and pulling out one of the condoms.

The little foil packet is easily torn open, and Shawn’s presses the condom over the tip of Lassiter’s erection with his mouth, lips sliding it down over the man’s cock. He makes it as messy as he can, the way he knows Lassiter likes it, but he can’t fight the uncomfortable feeling in the back of his mind as he hollows his cheeks around the spit-slick erection. He barely registers the hands weaving into his hair before he lets the other man fuck his mouth, rougher and rougher until Lassie pulls back, about to come.

That’s when he sees the tears burning in the corners of Shawn’s eyes, and then he bites his lip.

“Fuck,” he repeats. “I-”

“It’s nothing,” Shawn persists, his mouth pressed into a tight line, and he goes to suck Lassie back into his mouth, shoving his cock back down his throat until he nearly chokes on it, and Lassiter pushes him off gently.

“Tell me, Shawn. What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, I swear to God, just let me suck you off.”

Shawn tries to look away from Lassiter’s sharp gaze, restless and uncomfortable with the pitying look he’s being given.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Shawn says, and then he starts sobbing.

“Oh,  _ Shawn _ ,” Lassiter murmurs, and pulls him close.

Then they’re kissing again, but the tears are sliding slick against their cheeks. A bittersweet desperateness shining in Shawn’s eyes, one that Lassie can’t ignore, and so he presses a soft kiss to his cheek and murmurs in his ear.

“I love you.”

Shawn freezes; he’s been told “I love you” by about two and a half people in his entire life: his own mother, Gus, and a random one night stand who moaned it during sex. And never, ever, did he expect to be told so once again while collapsed on the floor of Carlton Lassiter’s sitting room.

“Oh,” Shawn says, and his voice sounds very small. 

He swallows hard.

“Fuck,” Lassiter says again, and neither of them are hard anymore.

“I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“No, it’s fine.”

Shawn stands up and goes to the door.

He doesn’t look back.

There are still pineapple condoms spilled over the floor. The taste of them lingers in Shawn’s mouth.

-

“I don’t want to hear about your escapades,” Gus says, covering his ears like a five year old.

“It’s not exactly an escapade, Gus, more like a _ desk _ apade.”

“What?” Gus collapses onto the couch.

“It’s a pun.  _ Desk _ apade, escapade. I left something on his desk.”

“ _ Again _ ? Was it a dragon-related sex toy, because I swear to God-”

“No, it was a box of condoms.”

“But you hate using condoms.”

“I don’t hate using pineapple flavored condoms.”

“Oh,  _ Jesus _ .”

“But things got super awkward last night, and I need your help to get out of this one.”

“Did you try to convince him to become a registered Democrat again?”

“No,” Shawn says sullenly. “He told me that he loved me.”

“Oh, shit,” Gus says. “What did you say?”

“I kind of...left?”

“You’re such an idiot, Shawn.”

“Thank you for your kind and supportive words of wisdom.”

“Shawn...do you love him back?”

“God, I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Love isn’t really a ‘maybe’ kind of thing, Shawn. You either love him, or you don’t. And…?”

“Oh, no,” Shawn groans. “This is worse than High School Musical 3.”

“So…”

“I love him. I love him a lot. I love his blue eyes and his not-smile and his stupid hair and oh,  _ fuck _ , I need to tell him. Right now.”

“Shawn, he’s working.”

“This is important, Gus. This is true love we’re talking about.”

-

The look Lassiter gives Shawn when he drags him into the police station bathroom is definitely not one of true love.

“What are you  _ doing _ ?” he hisses.

The bathroom is empty, but anyone could walk in.

“I figured I would pop in to say hello, grab a snack from the vending machine, tell you that I love you-”

“Tell me  _ what _ ?”

Lassiter looks as if he’s trying incredibly hard to look angry right now, but he’s got a weird mixture of joy and incredulousness on his face. Shawn wishes he could take a picture.

“Y’know,” Shawn says, playing at being shy. 

“I  _ don’t  _ know, Shawn.”

“Look, I’m sorry I freaked out last night,” Shawn says. “I thought you were just putting up with me. A lot of people  _ try  _ and put up with me, but I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted quite this long, if I’m being honest.”

“It’s been a week, Shawn.”

“Exactly.” Shawn’s gaze is hard. “I thought you were just screwing with me. Literally and figuratively. But then…”

“I told you that I loved you.”

“Bingo, Lass,” Shawn says sadly. “And no one’s really  _ told  _ me that before.”

“That’s really shitty, Shawn.”

“But it’s not,” Shawn says. “Because I figure...I’m full of love. I love what I do, I love my friends, I love pineapple smoothies, I love my family, and mostly, I love you. And if you love me back, honestly...who needs anything else?”

Carlton pulls him into a kiss, a soft one; it’s the gentlest kiss Shawn’s ever had.

He didn’t know Lassie could be gentle.

“Lass, can we get a redo on last night?”

“Not in here,” Lassiter says, pulling away, but his eyes are full of want. “That’d be indecent.”

“I’m practically the most indecent person I know,” Shawn says, and Lassiter chuckles.

“Later, Shawn. You can be patient.”

And then he exits the bathroom, leaving the door swinging behind him.

Shawn almost goes to jerk off in the nearest stall.

But he doesn’t.

Like Lassiter said, he can be patient.

-

“Spread your legs, Shawn,” Carlton says, his voice dark and smooth.

Shawn’s thighs tremble as he moves his knees apart on the bed.

Then he feels a tongue lick over his hole, teasing it and dipping inside.

He doesn’t even need prepping; he’s still raw from the way they fucked two nights ago, but Shawn honestly doesn’t care for technicalities at this point.

Still, he never thought he’d have Lassie eating his ass like this; even if a real psychic had told him that two weeks prior to today, he would’ve laughed in their face.

“Sweet Jesus, Lassie,” Shawn gasps as Lassiter licks him again, wet and deep. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

“Three times, really?”

“They say three's the magic word.”

“That’s ‘please.’”

“I’ve heard it both ways.”

Lassiter sighs and reaches for the box of condoms (flavorless, Shawn might add, because Lassie is bland and boring, like oatmeal without sugar) before rolling one on and applying a decent amount of lube to Shawn’s hole and his cock.

He presses in slowly.

“Hurry up,” Shawn moans, and then Lassiter thrusts in hard, hitting his prostate so that Shawn cries out.

“Jesus, Shawn, someone’s gonna call the police if you keep screaming like that.”

“Lassie, you are the police.”

“You know what I mean.”

Shawn laughs and pushes his hips back, inciting Lassiter to start moving again.

They’re both close after a little while, and Shawn is about to come when he gasps out:

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“You  _ know _ .”

“I love you?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Shawn keens. “Again.”

“I love you,” Carlton whispers into his hair. “I love you, I love you.”

And maybe three really is the magic word, because Shawn spills over the sheets at that, coming hard and fast.

Lassiter comes shortly after.

Once they’re cleaned up and cuddling in Lassiter’s bed, Shawn leans over and presses a kiss to his temple.

“I love you too,” he murmurs.

Both of them, for the first time in their lives, feel whole.


End file.
